Sober
by DevilWithTheAngelWingsOn
Summary: Riddick has left.  How will Jack cope?


Sober

Strong arms stopped her body from flailing. She was being held. These were good arms; solid, caring arms. Jack opened her aqueous green eyes to be met with brown.

"My child, another nightmare." Imam held onto her tightly, his big arms easily enveloping her tiny body.

Not what she was entirely expecting but she'd accept it. He was all she had these days after all.

"Thanks Imam. Bad this time?"

"Worst I've seen you have. Allah bless this child with restful sleep, if only for one night." His fingers moved deftly over his prayer ropes.

Jack wiggled a little, this scene was beginning to be uncomfortable. She'd only ever let one man touch her and no matter how much the Imam cared, he was _not_ that man.

The holy man released her, a slightly apologetic look in his eye. He left her just as quickly as he had come.

Jack sat up, her tiny feet dangling over the edge of the bed. She was shaking. Hadn't realized that until now. She was numb most of the time since it all happened but occasionally feelings she despised wormed their way through her hard facade and brought on the most agonizing memories. It seemed the dreams were only the beginning, the feelings were not done with her yet.

Adolescent hands squeezed her nearly bald head, she began to cry in earnest. It still stung just as bad as the minute he left. Imam thought she should be getting over it all by now, he was wrong. Would the hurt ever stop? The pulsating pain in her brain told her no.

_ And I didn't know_

_This could break my heart or save me_

_Nothing's real_

_Until you let go completely_

_So here I go with all my thoughts I've been saving_

_So here I go with all my fears weighing on me_

Jack let out a heaving sigh. She shouldn't be sulking like this. He wouldn't. He told her not to. _What's it matter now? He's gone isn't he?_ Left her to rot or grow depending on who was telling the story. At this point she couldn't even think his name. Still had trouble believing he was truly gone. It'd been three months now, she needed to pull it together. Learn to deal.

_Three months and I'm still sober_

_Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers_

_But I know it's never really over_

She threw herself back on the bed in frustration. She wanted it not to matter. Wanted to just ignore that it ever happened, that he ever existed...he was 'dead' after all. If she could just forget maybe she could make a life here. She could possibly get this right. Maybe it was for the better. She hated when he said that. If she could've she would've ripped out his tongue. Too small for that though. But, if she tried, she could rip out his memory. That much was possible.

_And I don't know_

_I could crash and burn but maybe_

_At the end of this road I might catch a glimpse of me_

_So I won't worry about my timing, I want to get it right_

_No comparing, second guessing, no not this time_

A surge of strength entered Jack's body, giving her artificial hope. It always played out like this. She felt sorry, angry, hurt, then empowered and when the cycle was finished it started again. She knew the pattern well but this time she promised herself it would be different. This time she would ride the strength, let it fill her up entirely. This time she was going to break the cyclone of hurt.

_Three months and I'm still breathing_

_Been a long road since those hands I left my tears in but I know_

_It's never really over, no_

Jack hadn't even noticed she'd fallen asleep until the sunlight snuck its way into her room. She stretched and shook off the sleep. Her night came back to her in a flash.

_Wake up_

It all made sense now. She could see her world clearly in this moment. Jack sat up again as realization struck. She was weak, wallowing in a past that hardly existed. She needed to stand up, move forward. Claim her own life. Today was the day. She'd manage it today.

_Three months and I'm still standing here_

_Three months and I'm getting better year_

_Three months and I still am_

Jack had been so small when she and the other survivors landed here three months ago and even smaller when the hero of the group left. No longer.

Her chest swelled with pride. She would make him proud, be a hero to him. No, a hero to herself. She was reclaiming her life, a life she never really felt she owned, rather she ran from it. An orphaned child at a young age, stalked in more ways than one, survived a monster planet and lived to tell, then drown in the ecstasy of finding a new family, only to have it ripped away from her again. No more. Jack would become something more than that frail version of herself.

_Three months and it's still harder now_

_Three months I've been living here without you_

_Three months, yeah, three months_

She walked to her balcony window and threw open the doors, the warm air gushing in. It was exhilarating, she breathed in deeply. So this was freedom? This is what it is like to own yourself? To overcome demons larger than you thought you'd ever have to face. Jack smiled, finally awake after three months of sleep walking.

_Three months and I'm still breathing_

_Three months and I still remember it_

_Three months and I wake up_

She looked at the New Meccan sun, bright like her savior had been. She closed her eyes briefly, fighting the urge to give into the pang of pain she felt stirring in her belly. Not this time. She had been given a chance, a chance she should've never gotten but because of him she did. She would not disappoint. She'd pick up the pieces and move forward. Her mind fumbled over the enlightened thoughts, over the name; rolled it around, refused it for a moment but finally it formed, grew and solidified.

Riddick was gone. She had to accept it. Shoulder the pain and keep moving. This time, for the first time...she did.

_Three months and I'm still sober_

_Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers_

** -Author's Note-**

Okay, this is pure fluff. Not really much substance and definitely not some of my finer writing but it was invading my brain so it had to come out. Who knew stories could be such sticky business. Anyways, read and review por favor. Flames are welcome if necessary...hopefully its not that bad though. The lyrics are courtesy Kelly Clarkson, song is "Sober"...worth a listen if ya ask me. Okay, 'tis all. Hopefully everyone will be seeing me soon with The Child is Gone but I'm fighting the dreaded writer's block at the moment. Enjoy!

-DevilWithTheAngelWingsOn


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